The Life of the Dead
by Tsiishch'li
Summary: Lieutenant Renn is renowned as one of the best in the Legion of the Dead. He has excelled in an environment that kills everything. That is all Orzammar cares about. He is dead, after all. But even dead men have pasts. Even dead men have stories to tell. Rated for safety and paranoia. One-shot. Renn, Valta, and an OC. Slight spoilers for Descent in the AN but not the story.


_**Author's Note: I finally played Descent. Please tell me I'm not the only one heartbroken over Renn! Anyway, this little plot bunny sunk its fangs (teeth?) into my brain and wouldn't let go. So here it is. Please send a review! (reading first recommended but not required)**_

 _ **The title is taken from this quote from Cicero: "The life of the dead is placed in the memory of the living."**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I own nothing. I make no money of it. I live solely for reviews. Which in a way are even better than getting money.**_

* * *

"Who was she?" Valta asked.

Renn looked up, startled, from the bottom of his mug. "Who?"

"The woman your dagger belonged to."

"How do you know it was a woman?" he shot back, not feeling very charitable at the moment.

"I've heard your men talk, Lieutenant. She was a Grey Warden, right?"

Valta's grey eyes almost looked blue in the lyrium light. Maybe that was why he felt his guard breaking down. Or maybe he just needed to talk to _someone_ about it. "One year ago today," he sighed. "That's when it happened."

He meant to continue, but his mind slipped away form him, swimming down into the memories, and he could not speak until they had released him.

* * *

 _One year ago_

"Renn?"

 _That voice…_

Was it his feet or his boots that became as solid as the Stone herself? He only knew he could not move. That voice, _her_ voice, was not meant to be here. Not with _them_.

Then her hand was on his shoulder, her face coming into view as she stepped in front of him, and only through all the will in his body did he keep his face void of emotion.

"It is you," she said with a sad, crooked smile.

" _Lieutenant_ Renn, now," he said gruffly. "You Wardens can sleep over there."

Somehow he forced his feet to walk away. But he could not force his ears to become deaf.

"What was that about?" the man with her asked quietly.

A pause, one filled with tattered hopes and disappointment, and then she answered. "Nothing at all, apparently."

* * *

Five days into the expedition and they hadn't spoken a word to each other—which was quite a feat, considering there were only two other people in the group. On the sixth day, they met up with a contingent of the Legion. Renn had planned to disappear into the crowd and get himself too drunk to stand. He should have known it would not work.

"This seat taken?" she asked, holding her own mug of ale.

He was forced to shake his head.

She sat and took a deep draft. "How the hell did you get Tapster's all the way down here?"

"I have a reputation."

"I bet."

The comment was made with just enough sarcasm to make him look at her. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing. Just that you have a way of making an impression wherever you go."

The fire flared. Her eyes were just as blue as he remembered. He felt himself losing grip of his control. "How's the surface treating you?"

She shrugged.

"That good, huh?"

"It's…weird. The sky is overwhelming at first. Mountains look odd from the outside. And it's all so very…" her voice trailed off as she searched for the right word. Finally she shrugged again. "Everything's alive up there. You can _feel_ it."

Renn tried not to watch her—and failed miserably. "Sounds like you miss the Stone."

"Yeah, guess I do."

Renn emptied his mug and stood, gesturing to her mug. "Want a refill?"

She held it up with an empty smile that tore a hole in his heart. "Please."

He wanted to ask what happened to her, what had ripped her apart and put her back together all wrong; instead, he walked away and refilled their mugs. When he returned, she pulled a dark bottle out of her pack and poured a generous amount into her ale.

"What's that?"

"Not sure what all's in it. Some whiskey, some brandy, probably something Antivan. Want some?"

"Never had surface liquor before."

"It's not as bad as you think."

He shrugged and held his mug out.

They drank in silence for a while. He only just finished it off when he felt the alcohol hitting his head. "Stuff's stronger that it looks," he said with a dry chuckle.

She looked at him then, and he could almost swear she was the girl he remembered. But then the fire flared again, and the shadows coming from behind her eyes were a cold slap to the face. She was _not_ the girl he remembered. She was a Grey Warden now. And that came with a burden.

"Why'd you join?" he asked without meaning to. That topsider liquor really was stronger than it looked.

She turned her face to the fire. "I got into some trouble. Some noble decided I was a nuisance. There was a Warden in the village—the one whose Calling we're here for. He conscripted me before the execution. That was a couple years ago."

"Execution?"

"Yeah, it got a little…complicated."

"I've got time."

"Renn," she sighed. "Please don't."

"Don't what?"

She faced him again, this time with sparks in her eyes just as he remembered. It almost made him smile. "Don't ask me to tell you. Because if you ask, I will tell the story. And it's about as good of a memory as your funeral. So here's my offer: if you make me tell you how I became a Warden, then I will make you tell me about your funeral."

He withdrew, unwilling to discuss that day. He withdrew all the way to his bedroll. But he felt her eyes follow him, accusing him of cowardice. Maybe she was right.

* * *

Two days later he found her drinking straight from her dark bottle.

"That's not going to last long if you keep it up," he said.

She shrugged. "Doesn't help anyway."

"Come on. I'm going to scout up ahead and could use a Warden's senses."

She regarded him silently and he thought she would turn him down, tell him to take the other Warden, the one hearing the Calling. But then she nodded and followed him into the darkness.

A small amount of guilt crept into his mind. This section of the Deep Roads was thoroughly mapped; a Legion presence kept darkspawn encounters to a minimum. They didn't need to scout ahead.

They moved efficiently, always on guard for a surprise attack, until they reached the Legion's next campsite. She glanced around at the obviously used fire pits, the waiting fuel for fires, the stashed supplies, and simply shook her head.

Renn waited until they set up camp. He stared at her across the fire, trying to find the words to start, when she moved to sit beside him and offered her bottle of liquor.

"What's this for?" he asked, but accepted it anyway and took a deep draft of the stuff.

"To help loosen your tongue."

He wondered if the bottle was laced with something other than alcohol. His words did seem to flow much easier now. "You didn't have to leave, Tara."

"What reason did I have to stay? My parents left me nothing more than a failing store when they died. You joined the Legion. My options were to either marry some merchant caste prick or leave. So I left."

Renn touched her jaw, gently turning her face back toward his own. "You've always been beautiful, Tara. You could've done much better than merchant caste."

She snorted indelicately. "So I get to be a noble prick's concubine instead? Lucky me."

Renn traced his fingertips along her jawline. She held his gaze steadily, almost daringly. But no, that wasn't the right word. It wasn't daring, it was simply against her nature to look away.

"Don't ask," she whispered. "Not yet."

"Ask what?"

"Why I left. It's over and done with now. Leaving let me see you again, after all. So let's just leave it at that for now."

Renn didn't know how it happened. One second she was staring at him with those eyes as bright as raw lyrium and the next his hand tangled into her hair, pulling her closer, and then they were kissing. The not knowing how it happened kind of bothered him, but he definitely wasn't complaining.

She pulled away with something akin to a sob. "Renn…"

"Stay," he whispered. "Please."

She didn't ask if he meant for the one night, or for the expedition, or for even longer than that. He wasn't sure he knew. He just knew he meant it. He _needed_ her to stay.

"Please," he breathed against her mouth.

Tara sighed, melting against him, and that was all the answer he needed.

* * *

"I had to hear it from my mother, you know," he said later, watching her lace up her boots. The fire had died down to embers, casting a dull orange glow over the cavern. "That you had left. She managed to send word through my second."

She winced. "I should've asked her not to tell you."

"Will you at least tell me why you went topside?"

Tara's eyes hazed over with memories. She stayed silent for a long while. "There wasn't any reason for me to stay," she finally said.

"No reason?" he repeated, getting to his feet. "Really?"

She went to stoke the fire, deliberately avoiding his gaze.

"Why didn't you even try to stay? Why was exile better than…than _anything_ else?"

She bit her lower lip, hard enough he expected to see blood. Something was building behind her eyes but she fought against it. He would need to keep pushing. He only hoped she would forgive him later.

"You turned your back on everything you've ever loved," he accused. She turned away with a disgusted noise. He reached for her arm, stopping her, forcing her to talk to him. "At least I had good reason to leave Orzammar. At least I had a purpose. You left because you didn't want to get _married_."

"Yes, I did!" she shot back at him. Her chest heaved with every breath. "I even had an offer. But you _forgot._ "

Renn released her arm as if burned. "What are you talking about?"

"The night before you joined the Legion. You got so drunk you couldn't stand. You told me you didn't want to join the Legion. You said with your cobbler skills and my store, we could make it work. We could gradually pay off your father's debts. You asked me to marry you, Renn, and I said yes. But the next day you went and joined the Legion anyway. I didn't just watch your funeral that day. I watched mine."

Renn had trouble finding his voice. Hazy memories from that night swam in his mind, indistinct as vapor and just as hard to catch. "Tara," he finally choked out. "I don't remember any of that."

"Obviously." A tear rolled down her face. She ignored it. "You broke my heart, Renn. What reason did I have to stay after that?"

This time when she turned away, Renn caught her hand instead. "I'm sorry, Tara."

She looked at him and shook her head. "No, you're not. You would do it all again, exactly the same way. I'll take first watch."

With that, she walked away.

* * *

He gave her a couple hours to herself before following. He found her not far away, sitting at the edge of a broken bridge, feet swinging over the abyss. Settling beside her almost close enough for their shoulders to brush together, he took her bottle and finished it off.

"You want to keep it?" he asked.

She shrugged, so he handed it back. She regarded it for a moment, and then simply let it slip out of her fingers. It disappeared into the blackness. Renn listened, but never heard it break.

"I am sorry, Tara," he whispered. "You were…you _are_ the main reason I've lasted this long in the Legion. At first I hoped you would find a man to treat you right and save your parents' store, but then I got the news of your exile. Then I just hoped you would somehow find a better life on the surface. When I saw you with the Wardens…I realized you're just as doomed as I am. It was a shock."

"What do you mean?" she asked softly, still staring ahead into the darkness.

"I wanted you to be happy. I always knew my mother and brother were safe from exile, so they haven't crossed my mind as much as they probably should have. But you…you were an unknown for so many years. I thought that maybe if you could survive on the surface, I could survive down here. I had this fantasy built up, where you were married with three kids and a husband who doted on you like you deserve. Imagining your smile got me through some bad days, Tara."

She finally looked at him then. "Wow," she said, playfully nudging his shoulder. "Quite a speech."

Quickly, before he could change his mind, he leaned over and kissed her. She only hesitated a moment before kissing him back.

"I have a question," he murmured against her mouth.

Her lips curved up in a smile, as if she already knew what his question was.

"What the hell was in that bottle?"

She laughed. It sounded better than he remembered.

"Honestly, Renn, I don't know. But it's usually safe to blame all weirdness on the Antivans."

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her in close. She tucked herself into his side and squirmed around until she was comfortable. They stayed like that, unmoving, simply basking in each other's presence.

"I thought I'd never see you again," she whispered. "Even after the Joining. I knew I'd end up down here somehow or another, but the odds of finding you seemed pretty damn slim."

"Will you tell me the story now?"

She shook her head. "No, I don't want to ruin the moment."

He chuckled and let the matter drop.

"I'll stay, if you want me to."

Even as close as they were, he almost didn't hear it. "How long?" he murmured back, struggling and failing to keep a smile off his face.

"As long as you want."

* * *

Renn stared down at Tara's broken body. Memories of her flashed across his vision, old and new alike, of how soft her skin felt, how she always tasted faintly of mushrooms, how her nose would scrunch up when she laughed. He fell to his knees and roared his pain to the Stone. _Why her, sod it all? Why did she have to die too?_

"Lieutenant?" his second asked, obviously hesitant to say anything. "We've gathered the other Warden's effects to send back to the surface. What do you want to do with her?"

He didn't hesitate. "Return her to the Stone with full rites."

"But—"

"Don't," Renn snarled. "Don't you say _anything_ against it."

A slight hesitation, then, "Yes, ser."

Renn gently closed her eyes and then picked her up, cradling her close for the last time.

 _You deserved better. We both did._

* * *

 _Present_

Renn felt himself reluctantly returning to the present, to the woman with grey eyes who had so patiently waited for him to continue. "She died right in front of me. She didn't even have a reason to be here. Her mentor, the Warden who conscripted her, was hearing the Calling. She came with him and ended up dying with him. Bad timing all around, I guess."

"You miss her a lot, don't you?"

Renn paused, his mug halfway to his lips. "Yeah. Yeah, I do." He drained his ale. "But she's gone and there's not a damn thing I can do about it now."

"Tell me about her," Valta requested, settling herself on the ground in front of him. Not too close, he noticed, and was grateful.

"She was merchant caste, originally. Our fathers were old friends so we grew up together. Tara was forever getting us into trouble and then thinking up ways to get our asses out of the fire."

Valta smiled but didn't interrupt, which was another thing to be grateful for. Renn didn't think he would ever get started again if he stopped talking now.

"We stayed close friends over the years, almost inseparable. Then we were lovers when we came of age. Never can quite remember exactly how that happened or who brought it up first. It just…happened. I remember thinking once that if I ever got married, it would be to her. I was actually planning on asking her. And then my father gambled everything away, including what he didn't have. I joined the Legion. Tara left Orzammar. I didn't see her for almost seven years. Then we got word that a Warden was hearing the Calling and ready to die." Renn stared down into his empty ale mug, fighting back tears. "And there she was. It was tense at first between us, but we got to talking and everything fell back into place. She said she would stay. She said…"

Renn felt a hand on his shoulder, a silent offering of comfort, and looked up into Valta's compassionate gaze. The tears finally started chasing each other down his face.

"She said she _wanted_ to stay with me. And then three days later she was gone."

Valta offered him a small smile, free of judgement. "Thank you for sharing, Renn," she said and then left him to his grief.

Renn watched her walk away. If he closed his eyes, he could see Tara. Sitting next to him, bumping her shoulder against his, leaning over to whisper in his ear.

" _Go for it, Renn,"_ she'd say. _"You can miss me and fall for her at the same time, you know."_

He kept his eyes closed a moment longer. _Perhaps, Tara. But not yet._

* * *

 ** _Yes, I ship Valta and Renn. But I love coming up with tragic backgrounds for characters who have stolen my heart._**

 ** _Thank you for reading! Please review!_**


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